


Through a Plexiglass Darkly

by badjujube



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Vampires, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badjujube/pseuds/badjujube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A TwiKinkFest submission. HA HA! I said "submission!" Original prompt involved Edward seeing Bella at a peep show. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through a Plexiglass Darkly

Through a Plexiglas Darkly: a TwiKinkFest submission (HA HA! I said "submission!")

Rated M: portrayal of the sex industry and some wanking.

Ok, a couple of annoying little things I have to get out of the way…1) if you are getting this because you have me on alert because you like that I don't write gratuitous smut…just…stop right now. I will post something more appropriate within the next two weeks, you do NOT want to read this…2) the original prompt was not AU, I decided to make it about vampires because…I just did. My apologies to the original prompter…and 3) this isn't beta'ed…because I was embarrassed to send it to my regular beta.

Thanks to Wime09 for being awesome and pre-reading it for me.

Original prompt: Bella works in a live peep show; Edward puts his money in the machine to see her. Does the establishment Bella works in have rules? Does Bella break the rules by whipping out dildo or showing too much? Has she been allowed to do wank but never succeeded in getting off until now? Can she see Edward wanking? You decide. You can substitute another couple if you fancy it, but it must be a cannon pair.

My phone buzzed to tell me I had a text message the very second I picked up the magazine. Alice. She swore that every time I bought "Wired" I had to spend money. I was sure she was just warning me about whatever high tech toy or hot new technology I was about to buy. Some of them certainly were better than others.

I ignored my phone and paid for the magazine, picking up a copy of Italian Vogue as well, just to placate her. My phone buzzed again. "You'rewelcome," I thought, without looking.

I stepped outside onto the damp sidewalk and took a deep, unnecessary breath to clear the smells of the cramped newsstand from my lungs and that's when I smelled it.

There was just a trace of it in the air. It was sweet and rich and unlike any blood I'd ever smelled. The blood of humans always smelled better than that of animals, my chosen prey, but this was infinitely more enticing. I felt my muscles tense and my senses sharpen, my body instinctively seeking out the source.

It was faint and I could tell that whomever it belonged to had passed some time ago. I determined the direction and tried to move at a human speed through the people walking down the sidewalk. It was raining lightly in Seattle and the amount of umbrellas, coats, hats and hoods made the source seem even more elusive, which was silly. It's not like the person with the siren's blood would look any different from the crowds of ordinary humans that had milled through my life in my decades on earth. They were largely interchangeable; the same thoughts, the same faces, smiles, bodies, hearts, jokes, blah, blah, blah.

I could tell that I was getting closer to the source and I began to consider how I would gain access to the precious blood once I found its vessel. I had some compunctions about killing a human but I just didn't feel like I had a choice in this case. The moment I'd smelled it I'd needed that blood.

My phone continued to buzz in my pocket but I ignored it, glancing around me to take in my surroundings. I was walking towards a less savory part of town. Good. It was easier to hunt humans in the underbelly of their cities, in the seedier parts of town. I remembered this from my rebellious years in the 1930's. It took no effort to recall the tricks I had learned then and to ponder how to apply them now.

There were less people on the street now, which was to my benefit. Also, the people here were less likely to look at each other. I caught the eye of a few people whose thoughts dwelled on my expensive clothes and handsome face. I worried briefly that some of them might recognize me. I weighed in my mind how many people I was willing to kill to make sure I had access to the precious creature who carried the blood I had to have.

This brought me back to reality only a little. I quickly pushed down the shame I felt and continued to track the elusive scent, telling myself that I just needed to find the person and then I would decide what to do. This was nonsense, of course. When I found the person who carried this precious scent I would have a hard time resisting.

The trail led to a large, gaudy storefront with black plastic stretched over the windows and neon lighting up the grey facade. A sex shop, the signs advertising DVDs, video booths and the obligatory "Live, Nude Girls." I couldn't think of a place more repellant to me. But at the same time it would be an easy hunt. I had spent a lot of time around the customers and employees of the sex industry, just not in many decades.

I essentially had no sex life myself but when I was hunting criminals and human monsters places like this were excellent places to shop for dinner.

I stepped in and looked around, taking in the scene, trying hard not to make my sensory exploration too obvious. The scent was still faint but I could sense it coming from the booths to my right. The blood either belonged to a customer, in which case I could either lure them out of the booth or take them there, or the "dancer", which would prove more challenging.

I walked casually by each of the booths before determining that it was not a customer. I considered waiting outside the business for the mystery girl but I felt a need to see the source of my hunt, if for no other reason than to make sure she couldn't slip away. I chose the empty booth that was most concealed and closed the door, finally exhaling in relief at being out of human view.

Examining the booth, I decided to break one of the two dingy lights in the booth. I wanted to escape the surveillance of the woman and the other customers as much as possible. The booth reeked of bleach, human body odors, alcohol, cigarette smoke and ejaculate.

I closed my eyes and took a shuddering breath. I had stalked and was preparing to kill a human after decades of abstaining. I was horrified with myself and yet it seems I was unable to stop myself.

I tried to convince myself to walk away, to leave her alone. Her scent was faint enough through the glass that I could finally stop and think. Before I saw her, before I memorized her face I could walk away and let her live.

But then, through the murk of thoughts in the building and thumping music came a heartbeat, steady and relentless. Somehow, I knew it was hers.

Thrusting money into the slot, I checked one last time to make sure I was concealed by the shadows in the booth. The black screen slid up with a whir to reveal her.

The source of that seductive scent, that wet, thumping heartbeat stood before me. I had expected a worn-out, overly made-up woman or some repulsive, artificially augmented creature.

The girl before me was neither of those things. She was pale-skinned and luminous, petite, with large dark eyes and flowing brown hair pulled into two pigtails on either side of her head. She stood before the four windows stretching languorously like a cat in a ridiculous costume designed to make her look like a schoolgirl. She wore white stocking that came up to her knees and black loafers. The tiny plaid skirt exposed most of her pale, smooth-looking thighs and threatened to reveal more as she moved. She had on a tight white blouse through which could be seen a white lacy bra. The only furniture in the room was a wooden chair.

I sat back with a huff, questioning my response to the girl in front of me. I knew she'd be a stripper, knew she's be scantily clad. What I didn't expect was that she'd be beautiful in such a fragile, enticing way.

My mind quickly filled with thought of…touching her while I drained her. I was horrified with myself. It was bad enough to have stalked her with the intention of killing her but to take advantage of her at the same time? Unthinkably vile.

She pulled my attention back as she ran her hands down her legs and pulled off her shoes. As she slipped her hands back up she ran her fingers up her inner thighs, pulling her skirt up to expose a pair of innocent-looking white panties.

I could hear the thoughts of the men in the tiny booths and was repulsed by their fantasies of her, pretending she was a child and violating the barrier of those cotton underthings. Then I realized something else about her.

I couldn't hear her thoughts. Not a peep.

With that he mystery of my…prurient interest in her was solved. I had never wanted for willing partners - vampires were alluring by nature – but my gift for reading minds had always made intimacy uncomfortable and undesirable. Nothing kills a libido like the thoughts of a prospective partner. The machinations they go through calculating how to appear attractive, the often banal or sometimes disgusting thoughts they had: recollections of other partners, their fantasies. All deadening to the sexual urge.

A partner whose thoughts I couldn't hear, one in the delectable package this one was wrapped in; it was the answer to my century-long sexual drought. The problem was: her blood was so irresistible so as to make the prospect of intimacy unthinkable.

But this, watching her through the filthy plexi-glass window that muffled her scent enough for me to get my bloodlust under control? It created a curious dilemma.

She ran her hands over her covered breasts and parted her perfect lips and my attention was drawn away from whatever it was that I thought was important. All I could do was to watch her hands as they roamed down to her hips and then back up to the top button of her straining shirt. She undid a button as I watched, mesmerized. The edges of her lacy bra showed where her shirt gapped. I stared at the next button, willing her to unbutton it but instead she ran one hand up to her neck and I became transfixed by the pulse of the artery in her neck. But she spun around and strutted back to the wooden chair, pulling my attention to where her thighs disappeared under her impossibly short skirt.

Her blood had my mouth filling with venom but her body and the mystery of her mind had my hand wandering down to stroke my hard cock through my jeans. I contemplated whether I would be able to get myself off in the presence of a actual woman for the first time in my endless life. Since I couldn't be distracted or repulsed by the thoughts in her head. It seemed like a possibility. It was an exciting prospect since the limits of my admittedly vast imagination had been pushed by years of jacking off alone, making sure there was no one within a three mile radius.

I unzipped my pants and pulled out my dick, stroking it experimentally while I watched her straddle the chair, exposing her white cotton underwear.

My gaze moved to her luscious mouth as she licked her lower lip. Her smoldering gaze moved around the room; her hesitation at my window so brief that anyone else would have missed it. I hoped she was taken aback by the dimness of the booth and not my feral visage. She didn't seem frightened so I didn't concern myself with it.

I stroked myself in earnest as I watched her undo another button on her shirt, exposing more of her bra through the chair slats. She slipped her hands into her shirt and stroked her own breasts, narrowing her eyes and parting her lips again and sighing slightly. It was funny, she was acting aroused, like touching herself was exciting her but I could tell from her heart rate that it was an act. It didn't stop her from being unbelievably sexy, though.

I stroked faster as I imagined my own hands on her warm skin, stroking over her covered nipples, her bare thighs up to her sex. She had me panting, which was an unnecessary response for someone who didn't need oxygen, but was afflicting me nonetheless. I could feel my excitement building when I heard a click and the window slid down, concealing her from my sight.

"God damn it!" I swore, bending over to where my pants had fallen around my knees. As I fished my wallet out I could feel that my phone was still buzzing. Alice. I ignored it and found enough bills to stuff into the machine.

The window slid back up to reveal the girl, now kneeling on the seat of the chair with another button undone. There was just one more to go on her shirt and I was distracted momentarily by the men on either side of me thinking about her taking the shirt off completely. I hoped I would be able to shut out the distraction of their thoughts and gross noises as I began stroking myself again, concentrating on her hands as they moved across her own body.

I was struck briefly by disappointment that she wasn't as aroused as I was but then how could she be? This was, by all appearances, a degrading and disgusting job. I wondered vaguely why someone as young and sweet-looking as her was working here but I put the thought out of my head as she undid the last button in her tight white shirt and slid it off her shoulders, revealing her smooth, ivory shoulders and small but well-shaped breasts still covered by her bra.

The man to my right was disappointed by the size of her breasts. I felt a flare of irritation with him. She was gorgeous; how could he prefer those grotesquely fake silhouettes to her perfect one? I released a growl and then got frustrated with myself that I couldn't stay focused on my own pleasure because of the proximity of the other men.

I turned my attention back to her as she stood up and turned her back on the windows. She ran her hands down the backs of her things and then back up, pulling up her skirt as she looked over her shoulder seductively. I stared at her shapely ass, imagining my own hands on her, my body rubbing against her.

As she gyrated before me I groaned and quickly returned to the state of arousal I had been enjoying before the window surprised me. I handled myself roughly, trying to get to my first release in the presence of a real live woman before reality intruded again.

She turned around sinuously as she slid her hands over her abdomen and up to her breasts again as I, panting, imagined her hands on me. The deviant in the room next to me on my left ejaculated with a loud moan and a curious thump and I thought about killing him. My attention flagged again briefly.

Swearing through my frenzy, pulled on my cold, rigid member angrily, all the while trying to block the thoughts around me. I felt like I was fighting tooth and nail against the unwelcome intrusions. I wanted to be alone with her like this!

I was fighting so hard I didn't even realize that someone strong had busted the lock on the booth I was in and before I knew it I was speedily refastening my pants and allowing myself to be dragged out of the sex shop by my brothers. Apparently the few people who were visible were either pretending not to see or were accustomed to seeing grown men being physically removed from the building.

Alice stood outside with her phone in her hand. I shook my head at her sheepishly. Her thoughts were more sympathetic than angry.

"It wouldn't have worked anyway," she said. In her head I saw myself, getting more and more frustrated by the intrusions and making a scene. A very bad scene.

"Don't, Alice," I said, averting my eyes. My brothers were trying not to laugh but their amusement was tinged by sympathy for me. They knew what it was like for me to live in a house full of intimate couples and being unable to have an intimate relationship of any kind. Alice had filled them in on my silent singer and the dual and dueling lusts she had aroused in me.

"I have a plan," Alice said, but she was masking her thoughts deliberately as we drove home so I could hide in my room to live down the embarrassment.

My family did their best to make me feel better but any allusion on their part to the events of that afternoon were met by my opposition or just sullen silence.

Additionally, I couldn't go back to find her, either to drink her blood or to watch her, because my siblings wouldn't leave me alone. Jasper and Emmett followed me everywhere and Alice kept giving me visions of me showing up and causing a really bad scene. Blood, screaming strippers, horrified perverts running out of booths with their pants down, on and on in endless high definition detail.

After four days of this Alice came to me and told me that she had a surprise for me. Her mind was a bizarre toy box of textile patterns and trans-Atlantic phone numbers.

She quickly lead me downstairs to the engineering booth of the music studio I set up two years ago out of boredom.

"What's going on, Alice?" I was having a hard time making eye contact with her; I was still so humiliated by what happened.

Alice gestured toward the door.

"Jasper and Emmett will be right upstairs. They'll give you as much privacy as possible. We'll only come down if I see something going wrong."

"What are you talking about?" I was now embarrassed andconfused.

Alice gestured to the Plexiglas window that looks into the studio. My instruments had been pushed back to make room for a makeshift padded platform. It looked like a chair without arms. As I look at the studio, bewildered, the door opens up and shewalks in.

She wore a dark robe that came down to her knees and a pair of high heels. I could only stare as I heard Alice speak. "Her name is Bella," she said and then I heard the click of the door as she left the booth.

The girl, Bella, looked around curiously, shyly and then she saw me through the glass. She raised her hand hesitantly to me.

"You must be Edward," she said. Her voice was low and soft. She held eye contact but she didn't seem as bold as she had in the peep show.

I nodded, unable to speak. I couldn't smell her, thankfully, and I couldn't read her mind. She was…perfect.

She was lovely; her dark hair was down this time and it flowed down past her breasts. The dark blue of the robe made her skin look gorgeous and her dark eyes had a depth to them that was captivating.

She looked down and bit her lip nervously and then smiled at me shyly. "I'm used to…having some music. Do you mind?" It took me a minute to process what she was asking.

"Of course," I said quickly and found the button to turn on the last thing I had recorded. It was a piano piece, kind of an unstructured jazz thing. I looked to her questioningly. She nodded and began to move, maintaining eye contact with me.

She slid off the high heels she was wearing with a questioning glance at me as she did so. I nodded slightly, indicating that it was ok.

"Do you want me to get started?" she asked quietly. I nodded, my eyes locked on her hands as they played with the tie of her robe.

She noticed where I was looking and loosened the tie slowly and opened up the robe to reveal some kind of dark blue corset that laced up the front and matching underwear. She let the robe fall to the ground and I took a step closer to the window of the booth.

She smiled at me and ran her fingers through her thick, dark hair and then down to the thin straps of her top. As I watched, transfixed, she fingered the straps and slid them down to hang off her arms. Then her hands moved across her breasts and down her waist. I took the last step towards the window that I could, my upper thighs pressed against the board.

Her hands kept traveling downward around her hips and they slid to her inner thighs. When they went as far as she could reach she lid her fingers back upwards, dragging across her covered sex. I could see her breath pick up just slightly as her hands traveled back up.

Embarrassed but unable to resist, I rubbed my hand across my groin and then unzipped my pants and took my cock out, rubbing it with a sheepish glance at her.

To my surprise, lips parted and her chest shook with a sudden intake of breath and her heart rate picked up speed. I eyed her skeptically for a moment, taking in her dilated pupils and the flush in her cheeks. I could only come to one conclusion: she was aroused. In a way that she hadn't been days before.

A shudder of lust passed through me and I stroked myself deliberately, my eyes flickering down from her face to the top of her breasts.

She caught my cue and her fingers began to unlace the corset thing, moving faster than before. She quickly exposed most of her small, round breasts and pink nipples. She pinched them rhythmically, her eyes closing with the sensation and her breath catching. I could see that her lags were rubbing together slightly and when her eyes opened enough that I knew I had her attention I gestured towards the makeshift seat that Alice had made. "If you like you can…"

Bella glanced at it quickly but shook her head. She moved ever so slightly closer to the window of the booth, mimicking what I had done just minutes before.

One hand left her chest and slid down her torso. I followed it eagerly and when she made eye contact with me I nodded, urging her on.

She slid her hand down to her dark blue panties again, moving it carefully across the outside and then down to her upper thigh.

A moan escaped me as her hand slid back up slowly and a single index finger slipped under the elastic. My hand sped up, my shoulder and arm jerking with the effort I was putting into stroking myself. A gasp escaped her as she glanced at me again and her head tilted back slightly.

"Touch yourself," I insisted. She nodded and her whole hand slid into her underwear and she moaned in earnest now as she began stroking herself. She moved slightly closer to me, only a few feet from the Plexiglas now and I could see the faintest trace of her breath on her side of the window.

Her moans came faster as her hand stroked against her sex. I wanted to see more but I didn't want to interrupt her to have her disrobe any further. Everything else in the world receded; the music, the booth, her pulse, everything. My world had narrowed down to the girl in front of me and the violent motion of my hand.

Her breath came faster and her heart beat sped up and her movements became jerky. The motions on the pinching her reddened and aroused nipples became uncontrolled, pausing and restarting as her concentration focused on the hand between her legs. Her wrist bobbed erratically and small cries started emerging from her throat as she removed the hand from her chest and leaned it against the glass for support as her body jerked and stretched and she rode her fingers through her climax, her head thrown back and her pink lips parted.

I followed right after her, thick, cold cum splashing on the control board, a few flecks hitting the window right below where I had stretched my hand out to meet hers.

We both panted, our hands meeting with a thick sheet of Plexiglas in between us. I swear I could feel the warmth of her hand.

When our eyes met I know we both saw the same things in each other; lust, awe and fear.

When I could speak I didn't recognize my own voice, so unaccustomed was I to saying such things.

"Next time," I said, smiling serenely. "Leave the shoes on."

Thanks for reading! xoxo JuJu


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